


Leave No Man Behind

by sans_souci2



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, U.S. Navy SEALs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:25:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sans_souci2/pseuds/sans_souci2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is reactivated for a rescue mission with his  SEAL team.<br/>Danny is terrified he'll never see him again.<br/>When insurgent fighters surprise Steve's team, he becomes the one to be rescued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave No Man Behind

**Storm Clouds on a Clear Night**

They'd only been living together for a few months but Danny knew the instant Steve walked out on the lanai that something was up and it wasn't good. Instead of calling him on it he opted to buy a little time and asked, "So how was your run?"

As it turned out what he bought were a few very precious minutes before his world all but imploded.

"It was good."

"Glad to hear it."

_And how is it that I'm this lucky?_

Honestly.

Every time he took a good look at Steve he was blown away.

Twice.

First because the guy was so damn gorgeous and second because he was _his_ guy. "So you'll be happy to know," he said, sounding a lot more laid-back than he felt, "while you were out there seeing to your physical fitness I was sitting here doing jack shit."

"Excellent, D. At least one of us should be living the high life."

"And that babe is exactly what I'm doing,"

"Good, that's good. So, listen, I got some news today."

Consider the calm officially killed.

"Oh you did, did you? Let me guess, the fucking Marquis has been permanently recalled?"

"Nope. It's not the Marquis."

"So go ahead-tell me. What's up?"

It was good that he was sitting down; Danny clearly remembers the way the blood rushed from his head when Steve answered, "They need me for a SEALs op- I've been taken off the reserves."

"What are you talking about-taken off the reserves?"

"Just temporarily-there's a situation they need me for."

"A situation?" Out of nowhere Danny's mind made a sickening connection-it had been all over the news for days. "It's that embassy thing in Egypt isn't it?"

"You know I can't answer that Danny."

His hands formed helpless fists; he wanted to punch something or someone. No way could this be happening. "I'm right aren't I?" he demanded, staring at Steve and feeling more scared than he could ever remember feeling. "Jesus Christ! There are what, a dozen fucking hotheads with machine guns in there just itching to blow someone up?"

"I never said that's where I'm going."

"Well wherever it is you're going, can you please pick up the phone and tell someone thanks but no thanks?"

"I can't do that Danny. The order came from the Pentagon-from the very top."

"I don't care if it came from the President himself." Danny stood up. No way could he take this sitting down. "I'd just like to go on record saying I really prefer you not go off to some god forsaken country and get your head blown off."

"Come on Danny. Sit down. I'm not going to get my head blown off. I'm just going to do a job like I have hundreds of times before and then come back."

"Okay so the problem with that claim is that where you're going, _you're_ not going to be the one who's calling the shots. There's an Abdul in fucking flowing robes over there with explosives strapped to his chest who would like nothing more than to blow you to smithereens."

"An Abdul?"

"Don't give me that look. You know what I'm talking about."

"Danny, I've trained my whole life to deal with danger and so has every man on my team. Trust me, the Abduls of the world aren't going to know what hit them when we show up."

"So it's a done deal? You gotta do this?"

"I do Danny. I took an oath to serve my country. I don't get to choose where I do it. The best I get is to put in a request, which I did, and which the Navy has honored for three years. Now they need me somewhere else for a few days. I have to go."

No way could Danny look at him. "So you've got me flat out terrified. You know that?"

"Come'ere, you." Gracefully, the way a dancer would, Steve stood and wrapped his arms around Danny. "I'm coming back, okay?" He forces Danny to make eye contact with him, "You hear me? As soon as I get this taken care of I'm coming back." He gives Danny a wistful smile as he rakes his fingers through his hair. "I'll tell you one thing-I've never had such a strong reason to come back from a mission-ever."

Somehow, probably because he's in Steve's arms, Danny finds the courage to ask, "So when do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah but let's not think about that right now. Come on let's go inside. It's getting cold out here."

Once they're inside they turn off the lights and set the alarm like they do every night but Danny barely remembers doing it. After they've taken showers and climbed into bed, Steve turns out the light. Danny lies beside him-not moving, not talking. For sure not falling asleep. After a few minutes Steve rolls over and props himself up on his elbow. "Come on Danny, what can I do to make this easier for you?"

"Besides not going?"

"Yeah, besides that."

"Okay, since you asked, there is something." He takes a deep breath. "I know you're gonna say there's no need for this and I sure as hell hope that's the case but if anything does happen to you-hypothetically of course-I want to know right away-not two days or two weeks later-I want to be the first person to know."

Steve's frowning. Danny knows he is even though he can't see him. _Too bad_. He's the one who's going to be pacing furrows in the linoleum at Five O. "Come on," he insists. "How can I be sure I know the minute anything happens to you-if it does, even though it's not going to?"

"First of all-you're right about the fact there's no need to have this discussion. Second of all, in the hypothetical case that there was a need, there is this thing we fill out called a DD-93."

"And just what's a DD-93?"

"It's a form where we specify who's to be notified if something happens. "

"Good. Put my name on the first line."

"I will Danny. I promise I'll square it away first thing tomorrow. "

"I appreciate that."

"I'll also go one better."

"Meaning what?"

"I'll reach out to Joe- let him know I'm deploying with the team and ask him to keep his ear out for any intel on our op. He's still pretty well connected with the SEAL higher ups at Coronado."

"Okay. That's good. I feel a little better." Danny holds up his thumb and forefinger and pinches them together. "Only a tiny bit I assure you but still, it's better than nothing. "

"I'm glad. Anything else I can do?"

"Besides not leaving?"

"Danny. Please."

"Okay fine. That's the last time I say that. To answer your question I guess all that's left is for you to swear you're gonna haul your incredible ass back here in one piece."

"You think my ass is incredible?"

"Do not make light of my request."

"Okay, I'm sorry." Steve lays one hand over his heart and holds the other one up. "I Steven J. McGarrett do solemnly promise to haul my incredible ass back here."

"In one piece."

"In one piece… so Daniel Williams can do very naughty things to it."

"Oh so now you're gonna editorialize my request?"

"You don't like what I added?"

"I didn't say that."

"Good. Now how about you come over here and remind me of just exactly why I want to haul my ass back here."

It's not like Danny has a choice.

With Steve's arms wrapped around him they kiss and press against each other like they've been apart for ages. There's a hungry, desperate edge to their love making that night. It's like they can't get enough of each other-like they're storing up to get through what lies ahead. After Danny climaxes with a loud, grateful cry and Steve does the same a few seconds later, they lay spooned up against each other getting their breath. When his heart rate has slowed enough to talk Steve leans over and whispers, "I love you, D."

There's no answer.

"You okay, Danny?"

There's no sound until a minute later and then it's a choked sob that breaks the silence.

"It's going to be okay, Danny. I promise," Steve says hugging him tighter. He swipes the pad of his thumb across Danny's cheek and then kisses the top of his head.

Finally, much later they both fall asleep.

 

**The Drop Off**

"Take this right; then you can pull onto the runway."

"Okay so that's how you're going be? All business-like? Pull over here, drop me off there, see you later?"

"Danny I'm not being anything. I'm just a guy going to work. You can park over there-behind the C-130."

"I'm assuming a C-130 is that behemoth of a plane?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Okay so before you get out of this car I gotta say something."

Steve looks pained but says, "Okay?"

"First of all as much as I hate that you're doing this I gotta say I'm proud as hell of you. I mean look at you-all suited up ready to go save lives halfway around the world. I mean it-I'm really, really proud."

"Thank you Danny. That means a lot to me."

"You're welcome. I hope you know you mean a lot to me."

"Danny," Steve says, sounding  even more uncomfortable.

"I know-I know you hate this and you gotta go. I'm just saying take care of yourself you big goof and-" Danny's voice catches in his throat, "come home to me in one piece or I'll kill you." The sob he's been fighting all morning finally wins out. Steve reaches across the console for him but Danny shoos him away-"No. Go. I'm fine. I just had to say my piece that's all."

"Well can I say mine?"

"Y… yours?"

"Yeah, mine."

Not knowing what to expect Danny says, "Okay… go ahead."

"So I'm not all that good at this but I just want to say I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've never been so happy or felt so content. And, just to let you know, I've never had this much trouble keeping my hands to myself, either."

Danny smiles through tears as Steve's hand settles on his leg, "Watch it you," he sniffs. "So I got your promise? You're definitely coming back to me in one piece?"

Both of their eyes are glistening when Steve answers, "You've got my promise."

No way can they kiss, not with the flight crew just a few yards away but they reach for each other and embrace over the console, "I love you buddy," Steve murmurs.

"Right back at'cha."

"I got to go."

"I know, I know. Go on get out of here."

After he gives Danny a shaky smile it's like Steve transforms. When he climbs out of the car his expression has gone blank and his eyes narrowed.

It's what he has to do.

After he grabs his duffel bag from the trunk he stands up ramrod straight eyes locked on the plane waiting for him. Not even looking back, he slams the trunk shut and starts walking toward it.

 

**In Country-Out of Luck**

Steve's face may have been impassive but his mind was moving at hyper speed.

Hell, a lot worse could have happened.

His team was intact; he was the only one stupid enough to have gotten injured. Best of all, their target had been safely extricated.

The plus column definitely had it all over the minuses.

Now he just needed to get himself out of this shit show. The pain in his thigh was sharp and unrelenting but he pushed it to the side. Funny how SEAL training made you so good at being comfortable being uncomfortable. Okay so these fighters were clearly Taliban based on their appearance. Add to the equation the fact that every one of them either wore a Soviet leather belt with its easily recognizable red star on the buckle or had a Russian pistol strapped on as a sidearm.

"Move!" the tallest one barked at him.

He wished he could.

It was as if the guy hadn't noticed his blood soaked pants leg. When he shouted for two of them to get him up, Steve tried to reason with him. "Please… I can't. There's a bullet in my leg."

"I said get him up!"

Suddenly he was being grabbed by the arms and yanked to his feet.

Sweet Jesus Mary and Joseph. Pain like he'd never felt before exploded in his thigh as a bullet ground into his femur. Instantly all his training flew out the window and he screamed so loud the crows nesting in a nearby scraggly tree took off with indignant caws.

As if getting him up wasn't bad enough they yanked him forward which made fireworks explode in front of his eyes and his stomach threaten to spill what little was in it. He tried to hop on his good leg but it was no use. This was bone and nerve and muscle pain all mixed together and there was no way he could stand it. He remembered attempting one last hop and then hearing a furious roaring sound in his head. After that a blessed darkness descended upon him.

For as long as it lasted, all was right with the world.

 

**A 24 Hour a Day Minefield**

For Danny each day without Steve was like walking through a minefield. Today's hidden explosive was waiting for him when he ducked into their closet to grab a sweatshirt.

_Fucking crazy Hawaii._

The temperature had suddenly taken a nosedive like it had the habit of doing in October. Right now it was 65 degrees outside with a swift wind out of the north .

It was just a sweatshirt he went to get.

But it was Steve's.

The letters on it were so faded they were hard to read-BUDs Class 203. Funny thing, the Trident was still a rich gold.

When he buried his face in the soft cotton and smelled Steve's scent, hot tears stung his eyes. He remembered how much Steve loved wearing the damn ratty thing-how indignant he'd get if he even hinted it was time for the ragbag. As he pressed the shirt against his face he couldn't help but wonder if Steve was ever going to pull the thing over his stubborn head again.

Standing there in the closet still holding on to the shirt he remembered one morning when he'd come down to find Steve at the kitchen table, hungrily emptying a bowl of some kind of disgusting cereal. It had turned cool overnight just like today's weird weather and Steve had been wearing his beloved sweatshirt.

_This sweatshirt._

His hair had been muzzy from sleep and when he looked up, Danny's heart had melted. Not letting on of course, he'd poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from him. Swear to God he would have been content to just sit and stare if he could have gotten away with it. Instead he had teased Steve about his sweatshirt, first suggesting the ragbag was in need of a few new items and then when Steve as expected protested, teasing him about the shirt itself. "What is it you love so much about that thing?"

"This is my Buds sweatshirt Danny. Only the forty guys who went through hell and back with me have one. No way am I ever throwing it out."

"I know I know. I just like to razz you." After a sip of coffee, "Let me ask you this, I just noticed that insignia. So you guys are Navy guys, not Army, not Air Force. So how come you got an eagle in your insignia?"

Steve grins and wipes a drop of milk off of his chin. "That Danny is a very good question."

"Just the field trip version please-I got things to do."

"Very well. So, succinctly, the insignia as you call it is actually called the Trident and is made up of an anchor, a pistol, a trident, and an Eagle. The trident is Neptune's and symbolizes our connection to the sea; the pistol symbolizes our strength on land; the anchor-well that's kind of self explanatory and the eagle symbolizes our ability to insert swiftly from the air. But there's something special about the eagle."

"Do tell."

Steve glances down his sweatshirt, "Do you notice anything unusual about the eagle's head?"

"I see that it's down."

"Exactly, because humility if the true sign of a warrior."

Danny pressed his face into the soft cotton again.

_Please God. Keep my warrior safe._

It was pretty much that way all day, every day. No matter what he was doing or trying to do, little reminders of Steve would pop up and level him. Every time they did he couldn't shake the feeling of dread deep in his gut. If it wasn't for Grace and Five O he just might have crawled up into a ball and never left the house.

Grace. His anchor.

She was the one who got him through each day. No matter how terrifying the morning news was with its reports of car bombings and Americans slain, he still had to get her to school on time and pick her up afterwards. Not just a few days a week, either, Monday through Friday, thanks to Rachel. It had shocked the pants off of him when she called and suggested Grace stay with him until, as she said with total conviction, 'Your Steven returns.'

_Thank you Rachel._

Bottom line, even though his heart was in his throat most mornings, he still poured milk over cereal and braided hair and hunted down homework assignments that had suddenly gone missing. Once he did the school run and got to Five-0, work was a mixed blessing. It was hard to think about Steve when he was chasing down scumbags but it was impossible not to think about him when he stared out of his office at Steve's empty one. His damn body was still on McGarrett time, too. Every day around noon his stomach would growl and he heard Steve's voice in his head, 'So where we eating today, D?'

As much as missing Steve sucked, he could have totally put up with it if only he had a signed in blood, irrevocable promise from someone at about God's level that this was temporary. That was the rub-there were no promises. Every lunch he ate without him; every time he rolled over and reached out only to find empty sheets he was reminded that this could be his new normal.

In a heartbeat.

The very thought was pure agony.

 

**Not Exactly the Kind of House Call I Had in Mind**

Even before unconsciousness gave way to wakefulness Steve was aware of unrelenting pain throbbing from the top of his thigh down to his knee. It was like there was a drum beating under his skin-hot skin that was at least a few sizes too small. Midway down the outside of his thigh was the epicenter of the pain- the entry point where a bullet had torn its way through his flesh. It was a dirty, still oozing wound but it in no way lived up to the white-hot pain radiating from the shattered bone underneath it. He'd have been a lot luckier if the bullet had kept going but it hadn't. Stubbornly after it snagged bits of dirty fabric from his pants, it buried itself deep in his femur and set up shop-hell bent on creating a world of trouble.

After he took a few deep breaths to get a little control over the pain he looked around. He was lying on a dirt floor in a room with very little ventilation. Something was up. His captors were talking animatedly in another room. Suddenly the door flew open and a tired looking Afghani man in a dust-covered suit was ushered in. The man had a canvas messenger bag over his shoulder that he gripped protectively.

"I am a physician. My name is Dr. Kahdi," he said nervously as he knelt down beside him. When he saw the blood soaked rags wrapped around his leg he frowned and then apologized. "It may be slightly painful but these must come off."

Go ahead, Steve nodded.

Slightly?

As soon as Kahdi started working on him he was pressing his fingernails into his palms and gritting his teeth. It was no use. Every time Kahdi touched or moved his leg it felt like an electric current was shooting through it and he gasped at the pain

"This is serious," Kahdi said as soon as he had the bandages off. He probed the bullet's entry hole with his finger. "It's still bleeding; I will pack it with something that should stop it. Let me see where the bullet exited."

"It didn't. It's still… in there."

"You are sure of this?"

"Yes."

"That is not good. It must come out. The wound already looks infected."

"Please. Do it. Take it out!"

"I can't. I have been forbidden from doing anything more than changing your dressing."

"Please," he whispered. "Get it out; they won't know."

"Oh but I'm afraid they will. The bullet is deep-extracting it will be very painful."

"Just do it. I can be quiet. I swear… I can."

It looked like the doctor was seriously considering doing it when two fighters barged it and demanded he hurry up. They parked themselves in the doorway, arms crossed over their chests and glared at him to be sure he did as he was told. Steve let his head drop back down on the floor and squeezed his eyes shut. Shit.

After the hole in his leg had been doused with antiseptic and packed with gauze the doctor placed absorbent pads over it and then wrapped gauze tightly around them. When he was finally finished, the pain mercifully eased up a little. Steve opened his eyes expecting to see the doctor getting up to leave abut instead found him drawing up a syringe from a clear vial.

"An antibiotic," Kahdi explained, quickly giving him the shot. "And now this," he said under his breath, filling the same syringe from a second vial.

"Enough!" one of the men watching them shouted. "You've done enough-you must leave, now!"

Thank God Kahdi was quick and emptied the second syringe of morphine before he got pulled away.

 

**Danny Gets the Call**

Danny's cell phone woke him up in the dead of night. The second he recognized Joe's number his stomach knotted. "Talk to me,"

"It's Steve."

"Is he back-is he okay?"

"No he's not back but I just got a call from Coronado-"

"Tell me what's going on right now Joe!"

"Calm down. I'll will but I don't want to tie up your phone if Steve's command is trying to reach you. Can I call you on a different phone?"

Danny glanced around frantically and then raced into the hallway toward the kitchen. "Call me on 555 770… 3425," he answered fumbling to unzip Grace's backpack and pull out her phone. "Hold on let me make sure that's right- yeah. 555-770-3425. Call me the instant you hang up!"

"You got it."

The second Grace's phone rang Danny answered. "So what's going on with Steve-where is he?"

"He's in Afghanistan, to be more specific somewhere near Yahya Khel, a village on the Pakistani border."

"And?"

"His team's mission was successful but there was a complication."

"Just tell me what the fuck happened!"

"Calm down Danny and I will. He's okay but he's been taken prisoner."

"Taken prisoner? By who?"

"By the Taliban."

"Wh...at?" Danny gasps, barely able to speak.

"He's okay, Danny; he's alive."

"Okay and being held prisoner don't exactly go together in my book. What the hell happened?"

"Steve and his team flew to Afghanistan to rescue a US Army sergeant who had been held by the Taliban since 2007. Just a few days ago the soldier escaped his captors and was being sheltered by local villagers. These mountain people have a very strict code of honor; they will literally lay their life down to protect a stranger seeking their help. It's the same code that saved the life of one Marcus Luttrell, a Navy SEAL whose entire team was wiped out in an ambush in 2009."

"Spare me the history lesson, please. So Steve went into some village to get this guy. Then what?"

"Well they got him out but on the way to the extraction point they were ambushed by some very pissed off Taliban fighters looking for their lost trophy."

"Oh God I'm starting to feel so sick."

"Do not go there Danny. Steve needs you to be strong."

"Fine, just keep talking."

"Even though they were outnumbered Steve's team gained the advantage and Steve instructed half of them to take off with the target while he and the others finished dealing with the rebels."

"Why does that sound like a bad idea to me?"

"Danny it was a good idea given the circumstances."

"But?"

"Unbeknownst to Steve, a rebel with a relatively sophisticated sniper rifle had taken up position in a tree and managed to pin him and the others with him down. Once he realized the situation Steve ordered his men to get ready to evacuate-that he was going to stage a diversion and when he did they were to hightail it out of there and get to the chopper. The plan worked except that Steve was unable to get himself out. The last thing his men saw once they got to the choppers was Steve surrendering to the insurgents. He…" For the first time Joe faltered.

"He what?"

"He was injured. Shot in the leg-"

"Oh God no. No, no, no!"

"Danny! Stop it. He was shot but he was conscious and talking. There's already a rescue mission on the drawing board to go get him out."

"On the drawing board. What the fuck is wrong with you people? Why isn't it in the air?"

"These things take time. By now the rebels would have moved him to a secure place. We need to determine where that is, how many of them are with him and the best way to get him out of there."

"Daddy? What's wrong?"

Danny spun around to find a very frightened Grace standing in the doorway.

"Go back to bed sweetie, it's nothing."

"Is it Uncle Steve?"

"Grace please do what I'm asking you to."

"It is isn't it?" Grace's eyes filled with tears.

"Hold on a minute Joe. Grace woke up."

"Do what you have to, I'm not going anywhere."

After he put her phone down Danny scooped Grace up and said, "You're right honey, it is about Steve but he's okay."

"It didn't sound that way."

"Well he's okay but he's in a little bit of a fix."

"What kind of fix?"

"Well it's kind of complicated. Right now I need to talk to Joe and find out more of the details. Do you think if I tuck you into bed and promise to come see you as soon as I finish with Joe that you would be okay?"

"I… guess so."

"That's my girl."

Minutes later Danny hurried back into the kitchen and grabbed the phone, "Okay Joe, you still there?"

"I'm here. Any calls from Coronado yet?"

"Nothing."

"Okay well when they do call, don't let on you've heard from me if you can avoid it."

"Whoa hold up-we're not finished. So what do we do now?"

"We wait."

""Oh God this is exactly what I terrified of."

"Danny you got to trust me on this. Terror is not a rational response. The Taliban have just traded a low level soldier from a transportation squadron for an elite Navy SEAL strapped with a goldmine of weapons, not to mention intel up the wazoo. They are going to do everything they can to hold onto Steve and parlay their good fortune into even better fortune. We just need to bide our time, put together a foolproof rescue mission and then implement it. "

"Fool proof like the one that got Steve captured?"

"We learn from our mistakes, Danny. We didn't expect them to have sniper capabilities. We'll go in with more men and with the element of surprise."

"Like they won't be expecting us."

"You need to believe me when I say that Steve's getting out of this."

"You need to believe me when I say I'm sick to my-wait a minute, that's my phone-"

"Take it. I'll be in touch."

"Danny Williams."

"Mr. Williams this is Colonel Richardson at Naval Special Warfare Command in Corona-."

"I know where you are. What happened?"

Danny got the entire sickening story for the second time. Richardson's version was in less detail and came without the adamant promises Joe had made about getting Steve back. "We'll do everything we can to bring him back," is the best the colonel offered.

"Does that mean a rescue mission is being put together right now?"

"Not at this exact-"

"Why the hell not?"

"I appreciate your concern but we have to move carefully. It would do Lt. Commander McGarrett little good if we drop men into the area without adequate intel or planning."

"So we just leave him there for a while and let these fanatics have some fun with him?"

"We have embedded intelligence forces in the area right now looking for him plus we're scouring every inch of it with drones. Our first priority is determining where they take him. From there we'll plan an extraction."

"How do we know he's okay?"

"We have to go by what his team saw which was that he had an injury to his leg but was conscious and talking to his captors."

"So I'm just supposed to sit and wait? No way am I doing that. I want to be where the intel on Steve is coming in-where the rescue is being planned. That's happening where you are, right?"

"It is."

"Well that's where I'm headed, then."

"We don't usually allow-"

"Look, with all due respect, I don't give a rat's ass what you usually do. I'm listed as the primary contact on Steve's DD-whatever form. I'm not going to get in your way-I'm just going to make myself available in person to hear the information that that form obligates you to share with me. If it make it any easier for you to swallow-I'll have Joe White escort me up there."

"You know Joe?"

"You bet I do. He and I play tag team trying to keep Mcgarrett's ass out of the fire."

"Well that does change things. I've already authorized a flight to get Joe up here- I know he'll be asking for one the minute he hears the news about Steve. It might not earn me any brownie points around here but I'll go ahead and put your name on the flight roster too."

"Thank you. Where's this flight leaving from and when?"

"It'll leave as soon as you two get to the tarmac at Hickam. I recommend you contact Joe and he'll get you both to the right place. Oh and just in case, it wouldn't hurt to bring your passport with you."

Danny didn't know why Richardson said that; he didn't care. "Okay, fine I will and please, please call me if there's any news-any at all."

"You have my word."

"Thank you." After he hung up Danny headed down the hall-his mind in hyper drive. He needed to call Rachel and tell her he'll be dropping Grace off. Then he needed to touch base with Joe and after that Chin. When he reached the doorway to Grace's room and saw her sitting in the middle of her bed hugging her knees his thoughts came to a screeching halt. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were damp. "Is Uncle… Steve … ever coming home?" she asked tearfully.

"Of course he is. Come here monkey."

_First things first._

**Waking up to the Worst Possible Morning Show Ever**

All the military know-it-alls at Coronado obviously knew nothing. They had assured Danny that the insurgents who had captured Steve would go underground with him-that there would be no word from them.

"You call this underground?" he screamed at the TV when the live feed started playing.

_Oh God no!_

As grainy images filled the screen he could barely move. When the camera zoomed in on Steve he felt like he was about to pass out.

_Oh God babe, whathave they done to you?_

Steve was flat on his back on a battered cot with a filthy blanket over him and he was shivering and sweating at the same time. As much as it killed him, Danny took note of every bit of damage.There was a cut over his cheek and his eyes were bloodshot but unnaturally bright. His breathing was fast but shallow-like each breath hurt. The tremor that ran down his jaw promised he was gritting his teeth.

Danny bit down hard on the inside of his own lip. _I got news for you Joe. This? This here isn't okay._

Suddenly a mechanized voice asked Steve to identify himself.

"I'm… Lt. Commander Steven McGarrett."

"Oh babe, oh babe," Danny whispered. Hearing Steve's voice, seeing that look in his eyes- the agony was indescribable.

"And why are you in this country?"

"I was sent here to rescue a US serviceman."

After a pleased sounding chuckle, "And now it would appear you have traded places with this serviceman."

Steve said nothing.

"How has your care been Lt Commander?"

"It's been... adequate."

"Like hell!" Danny screamed.

"Have you received medical care?"

"Y-yes."

"Do you wish to return to your country?"

Steve flashed a what-kind-of-stupid-question-is-that look to whoever was questioning him. "Yes," he answered looking back at the camera.

_Way to go babe._

"Please tell your country what it must do in order for that to happen."

"My country doesn't... negotiate with terrorists."

"We shall see. Please-explain the exchange we are willing to make."

Steve stared into the camera like it was an avowed enemy; "My captors are asking that Abdur Rahim be released from Guantanamo in exchange for my freedom."

Suddenly Danny's cell phone rang. "Williams," he choked.

"Don't turn on the TV. I'm on my way to see you," Joe said.

"You're too late-I'm watching it right now. Your people got to get him the hell out of there-they got to do it now!"

"The mission is being prepped right now. Steve's team is standing by at Bagram and will lift off as soon as they can confirm his location. I'll meet you in the lobby in five minutes."

 

**It's No Easier Back Home**

"What do you mean fighting?"

"Just that. Grace was fighting in the lunch room with one of her classmates."

"I'm… I'm speechless."

"We're all very surprised too, Mrs. Edwards. That's why I called you, I was wondering if you could come pick her up and we can try to figure out what's going on."

"Of course."

Rachel promises she'll be there in twenty minutes and after she tells the nanny she has an appointment, flies out of the house without even freshening her make-up.

It's the first time the nanny has seen her do that. As she watches her car speed down the driveway she hopes that it's not bad news about Grace's handsome uncle.

By the time she gets to Grace's school Rachel has it almost figured out-not the details per se but definitely the root cause. She's mad at herself for not realizing how difficult this is on Grace but most of all she's furious at the bastards who are doing what they're doing to Steven and have the gall to broadcast it to the world.

When she walks into the principal's office and sees her little girl sitting by herself on an enormous leather couch, her heart breaks. Grace's uniform shirt is un-tucked and her cheeks are tear stained but bless her heart there's a defiant look on her face that Rachel is all to familiar with.

_Thank you Daniel Williams._

"Darling." Rachel says sitting down next to Grace and giving her a quick hug. "I hear you had a bit of scrape in the lunchroom today."

"She deserved it."

"Who?"

"Molly Enoyue."

"What did Molly deserve?"

"I slapped her."

"My goodness that's not like you. What prompted you to do that?"

"Molly said her father is in the military and knows everything about war and fighting and the bad men who have Uncle Steve."

"Oh sweetie." Rachel put her arm around her daughter, "Go on."

"Well she said when they watched that video of Uncle Steve her dad said …" Grace stopped, her eyes filling and her lower lip trembling. "He… said Uncle Steve was as good as… dead."

"Oh Grace! That's not true."

"That's what I told her but she kept saying I was wrong and she was right. That's when I slapped her. It's not true is it mommy? Uncle Steve is coming home isn't he?"

"Oh love, come here." Rachel could feel her little girl's shoulders heave as she wrapped her arms around her. _Goddamn the know it alls of the world_. She let Grace have the good cry that was so long overdue, holding onto her tightly and not giving a damn about any one else in the reception area. "Wait here one second sweetheart," she said when it looked like Grace was calming down and went over to the principal's secretary.

"Come along," Rachel said to Grace when she came back a minute later, "let's get you out of here."

"But mom. You and I have to see Mr. Baxter."

"Not now we don't. I've explained to Mr. Baxter's secretary that you're going through a very difficult patch and I'll stop by in the morning to explain everything to him. Not to worry, he's a very understanding man."

Still sniffing Grace's shoulders relaxed and the worried lines on her forehead softened. "Thank you mommy."

"Of course, sweetie. What do you say you and I go get a cup of bubble tea and have a little chat?"

"I'd like that."

"Good. Let's do it."

 

**Naval Special Warfare Command-Coronado**

Danny and Joe are sitting in the lead shielded situation room around a long oval table watching the grainy tape for what has to be the fifth or sixth time. Right now a Navy doctor is giving his opinion as to what condition he thinks a rescue team will find Steve in.

Danny can barely stand listening to the guy.

"First of all regarding the gunshot wound to his leg," the doctor says. "There's significant strike through on the bandage indicating he's lost a fair amount of blood. However based on the darkness of the blood my guess is he's not actively bleeding right now which is good. I am concerned about the wound being infected, though, given his surroundings and flushed appearance. I'm also concerned about bruising or fractures to his ribs since his speech sounds as if he doesn't want to expand his lungs fully. We can't rule out the possibility that he's been subjected to physical interrogation."

"Of course he has! Just look at him-look at his eyes. He's hurting. God damn it. They're hurting him!"

"Calm down Danny."

"Calm down while they're probably beating the crap out of Steve this very minute? You're asking a bit much there pal."

"Steve has been trained to endure prolonged physical interrogation-his scores in the simulations were some of the best we've ever seen."

"Fuck simulations, Joe! We're talking the real thing here. These bastards are doing awful things to him. I can see it in his eyes. Your doctor pal just siad he can't even breathe right his ribs hurt so bad. I'm telling all of you, you got to get him out of there, now!"

"We plan to, Danny. I swear we do."

 

**Agenda Item One: Rescue Rambo**

Later that day Joe and Danny are escorted back into the situation room just as the screens covering every wall flicker to life. At first it's eerily reminiscent of a tour Joe and he and the rest of the team took a year ago at Hickam. The similarity ends as soon as live feed starts to fill the screens.

"So this is Steve's team?" Danny whispers to Joe.

"That's right. They wouldn't have it any other way."

Danny watches the feed from the helmet cameras of ten SEALs as they repel down long ropes hanging from two helicopters. As soon as they drop to the ground they crouch low, take aim with their rifles and scan the area. Once the last man is on the ground they move purposefully down empty streets in the village where Steve is believed to be held. It's night so the images are being filtered through the same kind of lens the men have in their night vision goggles. "So far so good," Joe whispers to him. "Looks like most folks are still asleep."

"Not for long," Danny whispers back.

After what feels like an eternity, the team takes up position behind a two-story building. It's impossible to tell if it's a home or business. While two men shimmy up the side of the building and take off across the roof, two others kneel in front of a back door. After less than a minute they run for cover and there's a noisy explosion and burst of blinding light. The next thing Danny knows there's a gunfire coming everywhere. Over the sound of shooting he hears terse voices checking in with other as the team fans out into the house. It's all happening so fast Danny can barely make out the good guys from the bad. He has no idea how Steve's team manages not to shoot each other. Finally he hears, "I have a visual on Rambo."

The voice belongs to the Matt Mazer, a 38 year old SEAL who's taken Steve's place as team leader.

'Rambo?' Danny mouths to Joe.

"Steve's nickname." Joe whispers back.

Danny locates the feed from Mazer's helmet camera and edges closer to that screen. With his heart in his throat he squints at the murky greenish gray images. Mazer is crossing a small room; Danny can hear his rapid breathing.

Finally he sees him.

_Steve._

_Oh God._

He's on the same ratty cot. Even in the poor lighting Danny can see he looks like hell.

"Hey buddy, we're going to get you out of here," Mazer says as he squats down next to the cot. "Just sit tight."

"Eight," Steve grits out, ignoring the sit tight part and rising up on his elbow with a pained grunt. "Two patrol the p-perimeter and one's on t-the roof at all times." He's shivering so badly it sounds like he has a stutter.

"That's what we figured, the two patrols are no longer an issue, ditto for the guy on the roof. We've taken down everyone else in here and are doing a final sweep right now. Here's Fergs-how about you lay back and let him take a look at you."

It wasn't really a question.

Danny watches as another SEAL steps up to the cot and says "Hey buddy-so this is where you been goofing off?" The mans name is Evan Ferguson and he's got six months of special medical training under his belt that the rest of the team doesn't have.

Without answering him, Steve drops back down on the cot.

"Must be at least a four star with nice linen like this," Ferguson observes as he pulls a dirty blanket off of him. Frowning at the blood stained bandage on his thigh he asks, "So was it through and through?"

"No, it's s-still in there."

Both Danny and Joe wince.

"Okay so the docs are gonna have some work to do. Where else did they mess with you?"

"Ribs and… feet."

'Feet?' Danny thinks to himself.

Ferguson gently lifts the loose fitting tunic they've got Steve wearing and examines his torso. The lighting's not good enough for Danny to appreciate what he's seeing but the way Ferguson says 'Shit' leaves little to the imagination. When he moves down to check out Steve's feet the lighting is better. Instantly Danny's blinking back tears, _What the hell did they do to him?_ Steve's feet are so swollen and bloody it's almost impossible to differentiate one toe from the other.

Danny leans in for a closer look. _Oh God. Oh no!_ Paralyzed, he stares in disbelief at the bloody nail beds where toenails have been ripped away.

"The fucking bastards," Mazer hisses. "So that answers my question." He leans down close to Steve, "Okay pal we're taking you out of here Queen-of-fucking-Sheba-style." Then after he straightens he yells, "Come on boys get that stretcher in here now!"

A look passes over Steve's face that Danny knows all too well. If he weren't so terrified he would have laughed at the way his crazy partner regarded stretchers as some kind of personal affront. He bites his lip as he watches one being laid on the floor next to the cot.

"I'm going to hit you with a shot of the good stuff," Ferguson is telling Steve, already positioning a field syringe against his thigh.

"No," he grunts, "Don't want… to be knocked out."

"Well the ride is going to be pretty rocky. We need you comfortable so we can hightail it out of here, okay?"

"Okay… but not the full dose, please."

"You got it," the medic says sinking the needle into Steve's thigh and depressing the plunger halfway. "But if I see that you're hurting you're getting the rest of this."

"Don't listen to him-give him the whole thing," Danny hisses.

"It's okay, they're not going to let him hurt, trust me."

"Well they better hurry up and get out of there."

"They will. They're just getting him strapped to the stretcher so it can be hoisted into the hello."

"How far away are those guys?" Danny asks pointing to the feed coming from one of the helicopters.

"About a quarter mile."

"Shit."

"Okay here goes. They're exiting now."

Suddenly a voice Danny hasn't heard before shouts, "Mazer! We've got company coming from the southeast, ETA five minutes."

Danny's jaw drops. "Oh fuck no!" he gasps

"It's okay Danny-there's plenty of time for them to get to the choppers."

Danny doesn't say a word. Terrified, like he's never been before he finds the screen displaying a GPS read-out of any movement within a two-mile radius of the team. There are too many flickering dots for him to count.

"How many party crashers, Zach?" Mazer asks.

"I count thirty," Zach answers.

"Thirty?" Danny gasps. "Don't they have planes up in the air that can take them out?"

"No. They couldn't risk it" Joe answers. "The Taliban would have guessed something was up and moved Steve the second we flew planes anywhere near where they were holding him."

Danny looks helplessly at the people in the room around him. The head honcho is animatedly talking to someone on the phone. He overhears him say drone.

"Okay how about one of those? Can't they send one of those things up and blow the crap out of these guys?"

"If they can, they will. Stay calm Danny. Steve's team has faced this kind of situation dozens of times. Even without any kind of backup they'll be just fine."

"God I hope you're right."

**Same Page-Different Story**

The morphine hadn't fully kicked in which meant Steve heard the same warning Mazer did about insurgents on the way. His reaction was just about the opposite of Danny's. "We're okay-we just have to m-move fast."

"That's what we're planning to do. Hold tight-this ride of yours is about to boggey," Mazer answered. Then he turned to the rest of the team, "Let's head out fast but stay alert. Don't let this sleepy little town fool you."

It was actually one of their training scenarios-a fast extraction of a stretchered target. One man took point moving about ten yards in front of the others and two brought up the rear, walking backwards to forestall anyone sneaking up from behind. That left seven, one of whom was Ferguson, flanking Steve. The four biggest guys drew stretcher duty. It was pretty remarkable how fast they moved given their 170-pound payload. In their favor was the fact the terrain was flat and the ground under their feet either packed dirt or remnants of paved roadway.

After they'd covered about 300 yards, Grant  Owens, their pointman signaled them to hold-up. They were about to cut through an area of rubble where the remains of two bombed out two houses stood. While Owens did his sweep, the others crouched beside a wall and caught their breath. Zach Sanchez, the one who first noticed the approaching Taliban fighters, pulled out his GPS enhanced tablet to check on their progress. "We better hurry," he said squinting at the screen, "looks like they're gaining."

"What are they, fucking track stars?" Mazer hissed and clicked on his radio set, "Firestone this is Charlie Two, we're still a klick from from our exfil and have hostiles closing in-what's the status on those fireworks?"

"It's a no-go Charlie Two. JSOC vetoed lethal force given the concentration of civilians."

"Nice of them to do that," Mazer answered conversationally. "Wonder how many of those civilians are going to whip out AK-47s if we go to guns."

"Advise you to accelerate your pace so you don't find out."

"Thanks for that sage advice Firestone, over and out."

"So we're dancing solo?" one of the men guessed.

"Looks that way. How's our patient holding up Fergs?"

Ferguson who had been kneeling next to Steve rose to a crouch and faced Mazer, "He's hurting and being the usual son of bitch he always is-won't let me give him anymore juice."

"Just give it to him," Danny hissed.

"They'll do what's right," Joe assured Danny in a low whisper.

"That might just be a good idea for now," Mazer told the medic. "We're going to need every man we have if these damn Taliban boys get any closer. Come on there's Owen's signal. Let's move out."

Scrambling, the team grabbed their gear and lifted Steve's stretcher and took off at a faster, definitely more punishing pace. Steve was jostled and bounced so much he grunted and gasped non-stop. His knuckles gripping the sides of the stretcher were white; his face if anyone looked down at him which they didn't, was grey. As much as the four men carrying him hated hurting him, they kept their eyes focused forward and blocked out any sounds coming from him.

Just the way he wanted them to.

Just they way they had to if they were going to save his ass.

As soon as they passed the outskirts of the village and started across the overgrown field separating them from their exfil site, a rooster crowed. All eyes went immediately to the eastern sky. They had thirty more minutes of darkness tops. They were making good time, though; every single one of them was drenched in sweat and breathing hard to prove it. Suddenly, two thirds of the way across the field, their point man dropped down into a crouch and held up his hand.

"What the fuck, Owens?" Mazer hissed.

"Movement at three o'clock, I count at least two MAMs, both armed, holed up in that chicken coop or whatever it is."

"Mams?" Danny asked Joe.

"Military aged males."

"Why don't they speak English for God's sake?"

In his defense, it wasn't really the acronym that Danny was angry about. And it wasn't even really anger he was feeling. What he was feeling was his terror being notched up yet another degree. This quick grab and go looked like it was about to turn into a fiasco any minute now and when it did, in the middle of that fiasco, burning with fever and with a bullet hole in his leg would be Steve. With his stomach churning like it had only a few other times in his life Danny locked eyes on the feed from the point man's camera.

The chicken coop was actually a very small deserted farmhouse.

"Come out of there-hands up," Owens yelled.

"This is our new asinine operating procedure, courtesy of Washington." Joe whispered to Danny. "They have to make contact with any suspected enemy forces and give them a chance to prove they're lily white and innocent before they can engage."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Danny sputtered.

"Tell me about it. Wait, looks like our bad boys are going to make this easy on us."

Sure enough suddenly the men in the house sent a volley of automatic fire.

So much for lily white.

Instantly Steve's team dropped down and fanned out, belly crawling to whatever safety they could find. Some wound up behind rocks or trees or in the case of the men carrying Steve, in a dried up irrigation ditch. The ditch was narrow so they had to yank him off the stretcher and drag him into it with them.

"You okay buddy?" Ferguson whispered once they had him safely in the ditch.

"I'm g-good," he lied and then grunted, "Gimme a weapon." In a split second one of his teammates shoved their Glock in his hand. A split second after that all of them took aim at the farmhouse and opened fire.

"Oh Christ," Danny said helplessly to Joe, "So now he's going to play shoot em up?"

"He's going to do whatever he has to."

"Mazer's voice broke through the audio feed," I need those two yahoos taken out yesterday. Who's in the best position?"

"I'm closest," Owens, answered. "And I think I have an idea."

"Well don't keep us waiting-what do you need?"

"Just lay down some decent cover so I can get a bead on the bastards and we should be good to go."

The next thing Danny knew the sound of more gunfire filled the room. His eyes darted between the men in the ditch with Steve and the farmhouse.

 _Wait, what was that_?

With a barrage of bullets flying into the farmhouse, Owens popped up and took aim with a pirate gun, a small single-shot grenade launcher. As busy as the insurgents were dealing with the gunfire coming at them, they never even saw the grenade that whizzed through the shot-out window and seconds later put an abrupt end to their lives.

"Okay now get the hell out of there!" Danny screamed the instant he saw the house explode.

"How we doing in terms of company, Zach?" Mazer asked calmly.

"I'd say we're going to be shaking hands at the front door in under two minutes," was the answer.

"Fuck! Firestone?" Mazer barked into his radio, "We need choppers on the ground now and they better have gunners prepared for unfriendly fire."

"Roger that Charlie Two, they'll be waiting for you."

"Okay girls," Mazer yelled. "We're making a flat out run for the ex-fill site. Choppers will be on the ground waiting. You know what you have to do."

Without a word the men in the ditch carefully lifted Steve out. Then the biggest among them, a Naval Academy grad named Oliver Thompson, reached down and in a single strong motion slung him over his shoulder, fireman style. Ferguson was there with a field syringe before Steve could protest, delivering a full dose of morphine to his backside. "Take off Ollie!" he shouted before he had the syringe out of Steve's ass.

"Like Fergs just said," Mazer hissed, "Double time it-all of you!"

Every man on Steve's team took off running so hard the feed coming into Coronado bounced and jiggled to the point of being barely recognizable. The audio on the other hand was crystal clear. Sounds of boots thundering over hard ground and effortful breathing filled the room. At first there were also pained grunts coming from Steve but those lasted only for the few seconds it took the morphine to do it's job. Not a soul in the situation room took a breath. On the screen where feed from the choppers streamed, they watched Steve's team coming across the field toward the helos. To a man, each of them looked like he was trying to outrun an avalanche or tsunami. Draped across Thompson's broad shoulders, Steve's arms and legs flopped like he was a rag doll. Each time they did, blood from his feet splattered into the air.

"Just get him on that damn chopper, please," Danny begged.

"They're going to." Joe swore.

Instead of boarding, the first ones to reach the choppers crouched down in front of them and and sent bursts of machine gun fire into the darkness behind their team. Thompson, the man with Steve over his shoulders suddenly stumbled.

Without a word, another team member, who happened to be an former Navy football player, pulled up beside him and took Steve from him. Any relay team in training would have been envious of their seamless handoff. Finally all of them got to the choppers. With half the men crouched against the birds and firing nonstop at the fighters closing in on them, the others scrambled aboard pulling Steve with them.

"Go, go, go! Get out of there, now!" Danny screamed.

"Take off boys," Joe whispered.

As the Black Hawk choppers lifted straight into the air, machine gun fire from their open doors strafed the Taliban fighters in the field below them. To the east the sky was just beginning to lighten.

It was one of the most beautiful sights Danny had ever seen.

 

**The Free Trip to Europe Danny Never Wanted to Take**

"You ever been to Germany?" Joe yells over the roar of the C-130's huge engines."

"No," Danny answers. He's not even in a damn seat; he's on the floor, leaning against the side of the plane and his back already hurts like hell. On top of that he's worried sick about Steve. Bottom line he doesn't really feel like making small talk.

Reading his mind, Joe says, "I'm telling you Danny, he's going to be okay."

"He's _in_ an Intensive Care unit, just to remind you."

"I realize that but he's also Steve who's been in ICU's before and gotten out of them faster than any of his docs ever thought possible."

"Well I sure as hell hope he can pull his old trick off again. Where is this place we're headed to anyway?"

"Landstuhle Regional Medical Center, it's in a little town outside of Frankfurt. It's where all trauma patients from Afghanistan and Iraq or anywhere in the Mideast get medevaced to. After they get the boys patched up and stable enough for a flight home they ship them to military hospitals closer to their families."

"How do we know this place is any good? I mean maybe I should cash in my savings and charter a plane to fly Steve home right away to a top hospital like UMass or Sloan Kettering?"

"No Danny you should have a little faith in military medicine. I know for a fact that the surgeons at Landstuhl rotate back to hospitals as prestigious the ones you mentioned every couple of weeks. We've got some of the finest talent available taking care of our guys coming off the battlefield. Just wait. You'll see."

"I sure as hell hope you're right."

"I am."

The second their plane touched down on Ramstein Air Base's longest runway, its engines screamed in protest as they were reversed. As much as Danny hated the flight he hated the landing even more. His heart was in his throat by the time they finally seemed to be slowing down. If Joe hadn't been so damn calm he would have been sure they were about to plow into whatever buildings were at the end of the runway.

As soon as the ramp was lowered they hurried out of the underbelly of the plane to a waiting driver and car that whisked them to Landstuhl. It was ten pm local time and in the drizzly dark neither of them could appreciate how large the complex they were approaching was. At the foot of the hospital's driveway , a sign on a turreted brick gate announced they had arrived at LRMC. When they reached the hospital's main entrance they found themselves staring at a throng of news crews camped out on either side of the doors. The good news was that a grim looking squad of Marines decked out in full combat gear was keeping the journalists and photographers sufficiently cordoned off to keep the entrance unobstructed.

"What the hell," Danny hissed under his breath, incredulous and mad at the same time.

"I guess we should have expected it. He's been all over the news ever since the story broke." Joe sounded resigned but his expression was as ticked off as Danny's.

"Lt Commander White?" a voice called out from inside the lobby. A tall man in fatigues hurried toward them with his hand outstretched, "Matt Mazer, SEAL Team Five."

"No need for introductions son, I'd recognize you anywhere." The two of them shook hands while Danny eyed them warily.

"So you accompany him from Bagram?" Joe asks.

"I wouldn't let another soul do it."

Joe nods gratefully and then looks at Danny. "Matt, this is Danny Williams, Steve's very close friend and his partner on the team Steve heads up in Hawaii."

"Pleased to meet you, Danny."

"Yeah same to you. I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive me. I'm exhausted and not really following things too well. Exactly what are you doing here?"

"After we got Steve out and had him stabilized in Bagram, I flew over here with him and have pretty much stayed by his side ever since. There's a lot of crazy shit going on here." Mazer nods toward the pack of journalists.

"You're not kidding. I appreciate what you've done for Steve. Now is there any chance you can take us to see him?"

"Absolutely. Just leave your bags in the car- the driver will drop them off at the temporary billet where you'll be staying. I 'll drive you guys over there later. "

"Then what are we waiting for?" Joe asks already striding toward the bank of elevators.

"So how's he doing?" Danny asks as they wait for an elevator.

Mazer frowns, "He's a hell of a lot better than he was, that's for sure, but he's still got a ways to go."

"What exactly does that mean?" There's a rough edge to Joe's voice. "Come on, we're dead tired, Matt, give us the straight scoop."

_Thank you Joe._

"Well his biggest problem right now is the damn gunshot wound in his thigh. Those Taliban bastards left the bullet in there and now he's got a hell of an infection." Mazer touches his own thigh and winces. "Turns out infected bone is particularly hard to treat."

"But they can treat it right-they can give him antibiotics?" Danny asks.

"Yes but apparently whatever bacteria he picked up is some kind of super strain-they're still trying to find an antibiotic that it's susceptible to."

"And what if they don't find one?"

"I'm not sure- I'm pretty much not letting myself go there."

Joe interrupts him, "They will find one. Okay, what else is he dealing with Matt?"

As the elevator doors close and it starts to climb, Morrison continues, "Broken ribs- five I think-two they had to surgically set because the breaks were ragged and threatening his lungs-"

"But now they should all heal, right?"

"That's right."

"Anything else?"

"Just his feet-I think you guys saw what they did there."

"Yeah we saw."

"Well they'll heal, it's just going to take a little time."

Danny stops in the hallway they've just stepped out into. "So before we go any further, I gotta know what to expect. I mean is he in pain-is he awake? Is he talking?"

"He drifts in and out- they're being generous with the pain med. But you know Steve-every time he resurfaces he tries to quiz his docs about when he can get back home–last time he woke up he told them to cut back on his pain meds"

"Which is probably not a good idea?" Joes says.

"You got that right. Okay here we are-he's down this way.

 

**Danny Williams Has Done Hospitals.**

He's done them with a few of his partners on the force in Jersey when they got shot or run over and with Rachel when she had Grace and even with his precious baby girl when she came down with a case of croup that scared the life out of him. Bottom line he thought he knew all there was to know all about having someone he cared about in a hospital.

Guess again.

Walking into the ICU at Landstuhle totally leveled him. He felt lightheaded and couldn't get his breath as they passed by the nurses' station and then patient rooms. Each room was fronted with open sliding glass doors so he could see the battered men lying inside. Ventilators were hissing; monitors were alarming; in one room a woman was sobbing.

_Steve was in one of these._

"They limit visitors to one at a time." Mazer said to him but his voice sounded like it was coming from very far away.

"Then Danny should go in first, I'll wait here."

He did hear that. After he gave Joe a grateful nod he followed Mazer toward the room with two Marines on guard outside it. "Why are these guys here?" he asked.

"We've had reporters trying to sneak in- one was even wearing scrubs and tried to pass himself off as a doc."

"Unbelievable," was all he could because suddenly it was Steve’s room he was staring into.

_Oh God_

"Don't let all the paraphernalia in there scare you," Mazer was saying. "He's doing a lot better than most of the guys up here."

_Too late. I'm already terrified._

He took a step into the room.

_Oh babe, what they do to you?_

Steve was lying in a mesh of cords and lines. He had oxygen tubing under his nose and clear tubing running to an IV in his hand. His chest was wrapped with gauze and monitor leads were affixed to small patches of shaved skin along his collarbone.

_Just look at you._

A nurse was punching numbers into an IV pump but stopped and looked over at Danny as soon as she realized he was there. "Come on in," she said, "I'm just finishing up."

_How can you act like all of this is… so normal_

Danny's legs felt wooden as he walked across the room. Steve, _his Steve_ , was asleep, either that or knocked out on pain meds. "How is he?" he choked, gripping the bedrail for all he was worth.

"He's doing well. He’s not in pain and most of his vital signs are stable."

"I… I gotta be h…honest, he doesn't look so good to me."

"Well he just had surgery to remove the bullet from his leg and patch up a few ribs and he’s still got a nasty infection in the leg so he might look a little rocky but all things considered he’s doing well.

"My name is Danny Williams," he said remembering his manners and offering his hand. "This guy here is my partner at work and my best friend and I've pretty much been worried sick about him for over a week so could you please explain all this stuff I'm seeing that's not helping me feel any less worried."

After the nurse did a little double take she said, "Sure I'd be glad to." Keeping her voice low she told Danny that in addition to fluids Steve was getting antibiotics and morphine through the IV in his wrist. She held up a button and explained he could press it if he needed more morphine than what he was getting.

"Let me guess, he doesn't use that?"

"You do know your partner," she smiled. Then she explained the wires on his chest led to a monitor on the wall that tracked his cardiac function.

"And how’s that?"

"His heart rate is incredible-he stays in the low sixties.

“Yeah he’s kind of a maniac back home-always running and swimming and working out.”

“I can see,” she said, nodding at Steve’s upper arms.

“And what’s this?” Danny asked pointing to a clip on Steve’s finger.

 “Oh that’s to monitor how much oxygen is in his blood. This is where it reads out.” She pointed to a small monitor on top or the cardiac monitor. “He’s at ninety right now and that could be a little better. It’ll improve as his lungs recover.”

 "From what?"

"He had some bad rib fractures which caused trauma to his lungs. Now that they're stabilized his breathing will become less painful and his oxygen level will improve.

"And what about that?" Danny couldn’t help flinching as he pointed to the tubing snaking out from under the sheet covering Steve.

"Oh this?” The nurse touched the blood filled tubing. “This is connected to a suction device that's drawing blood and drainage from the wound in his leg."

"Now that's what I'm really worried about-what's this about resistant bacteria or something-"

"H…hey," Steve murmured. Suddenly they were both staring into his half opened eyes.

"Hey yourself.” Danny stammered, leaning in over him-getting as close as he possibly could. “How you doing, babe?"

"I'm o…kay,” he rasped.

"Well that's debatable but I swear to God it’s gonna be true soon.” Danny touched the bandage on his chest gently, “Please tell me you're not hurting?"

"I'm… not."

"Good. Thank God for that."

"How about I give you some time alone? I'll be just outside, yell if you need anything," the nurse said, already heading for the door.

Danny didn't answer; he couldn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off Steve. "So they… they really messed you up babe. It’s killing me to see you like this.”

"I'm... sorry Danny, really sor-ry.”

"Stop it all right all ready. I don’t want to hear that. Just please get better so I can take you home and nurse your beat to shit body back to health." Danny ran his fingers along the side of Steve's face, "Preferably sooner than later, okay?”

"O-kay.

"So you got some kind of infection?"

“I dunno-I don really understand wha’s going on.”

"Well I don't either but trust me I'm gonna get the straight story real soon."

"Just don' yell-they're good people h-here."

"I can't believe you said that. I'll be nothing but polite"

"You?" Steve huffed and then grimaced because his little laugh sets off a coughing jag. Grabbing a pillow to brace his ribs he squeezed his eyes shut and braced against the pain.

"Nurse!" Danny yelled then he leaned back over Steve, "You okay babe?"

He couldn't answer yet; the coughing hadn't let up. Suddenly a shrill alarm went off on one of the monitors.

"What is it?" Steve’s nurse asked as she rushed into the room. His coughing had finally stopped but Steve was doubled over and gasping. After she scanned the monitors she grabbed a face mask from his bedside table and replaced the nasal canula with it. "Here this will help. Take slow deep breaths." She reached for the button on his bed, "I'm giving you an extra hit of morphine so it won't hurt as much." A small pump on his IV stand whirs and flashes green.

"Is he okay? What the hell happened?"

"He's okay. This is normal. It’s just his lungs are still a little junky. It'll resolve as his lungs heal."

Steve dropped back against the pillows. Eyes closed he seemed to be putting all he has into controlling his breathing. His coloring was awful. Danny would beg to differ. _This here? This isn't normal._

_Later that night in the hallway outside Steve’s room-_

"So could you please explain to what's going on?" Danny asks Steve's doctor.

"The problem is the bacteria we cultured from the wound in his leg is a relatively rare strain that, as luck would have it, is resistant to a lot more drugs than it's susceptible to."

"Just what bacteria are we dealing with?" Joe asks.

"Acinetobacter baumannii," the doctor answers. "It's endemic to arid regions and characterized by a high degree of innate and acquired antibiotic resistance. "To put it simply, it's one hell of a mean bug."

"But there is an antibiotic that can beat it, right?" Danny asks.

"We’ve started him on one that's shown decent results against it in the past. We're hoping it will do the trick.”

_Do the trick?_

This is Steve's leg maybe even his life-Danny wants guaranteed results not tricks.

He hates this so much.

_Back in Steve’s room…_

If there was one thing Danny knew, it was Steve.

He knew that when he grimaced and shifted in his sleep, a hand on his forehead and then down the side of his face would settle him.

When his eyes opened and he blearily scanned his strange surroundings, he needed to hear 'It's okay babe, I'm right here.’

_It's okay, babe. I'm right here._

Danny must have said it at least a hundred times those first few days.

Waiting for the $1000 a dose drug to turn things around was no easy exercise.  At least once a day Steve would spike fevers that left him drenched in sweat and completely out of his mind. These were no run-of-the-mill fevers either. They’d come out of nowhere and in minutes the temperature monitor over his bed would be flashing 104 or higher. One of the worst episodes came in the middle of the night, waking Danny from the fitful sleep he was getting in the recliner next to him.

“Help me hold him down!” Steve’s nurse yelled at  Danny before he even got to the bedside.  He grabbed Steve by the shoulders as the nurse stripped off his sheet and replaced it with a fluid filled cooling blanket.

“No! Lemme go!” Steve screamed, fighting Danny furiously. “I gotta get Thompson-he’s still alive!”

 “No babe, you don’t gotta do anything. You’re in the hospital. Just relax.”

“No!” Steve croaked, thrashing even harder.

“We need help in here!” his nurse yelled into the hallway.

“Like now!” Danny added. He was never so grateful to see so many people in scrubs rush into Steve’s room as he was seconds later.  Steve’s doctor was one of them and after he took one look at him he barked, “Give him four of Ativan IV now!”

_Ativan?_

Danny had never heard of it but very soon it became his favorite drug. Seconds after it hit Steve’s bloodstream his thrashing slowed down.  “That’s it babe, just relax,” Danny murmured as he held onto him and felt the fight slowly leave his body.

“I’m…’kay,” Steve mumbled, his eyes starting to droop.”

“Yes you are. Just lie back and rest,”

“O…kay,” he slurred as Danny lowered him against the mattress.

_Okay so that was a bad one._

Still breathless himself, Danny dropped into the recliner and watched two nurses work on  the incredible tangle of tubing and wires Steve had created. When they had him settled, one of them got a basin of cool water and a washcloth. 

“Hey,” Danny said, jumping up. “Please, let me do that.”

 She looked hesitant at first but then handed both things to him.

_Okay this? This is more like it._

Gently the way he used to bathe Grace, Danny ran the cool wash cloth over every inch of Steve’s sweaty body. ‘There you go, isn’t that better?’ he murmured as he worked. ‘You gotta stop all this fightin and flailing, babe. You’re gonna tire your poor nurses out.”

Both nurses smiled at that. One of them gave him an encouraging nod as she headed for the door but he didn’t see it. No way could he take his eyes off Steve. “You gotta beat this thing babe,” he whispered. “Remember how you promised to come home safe and sound?” Danny’s voice cracked, “Well I happen to know you are a man of your w-word.” Steve’s face blurred as he blinked back hot tears, “So it’s time for you to go bad ass mother fucker all over this thing and beat it, you hear me?”

 Behind him Steve’s nurse gently closed the door. Once she was out in the hallway she leaned against the wall and said a little prayer. Funny how as much as she tried to have a thick skin she didn’t. Her patient's partner clearly loved him with his entire heart. Seeing him so terrified all but broke hers.

 

_____~______

 

**BAMF Time**

Maybe Steve heard Danny in his subconscious or maybe the concentration of million dollar antibiotic in his bloodstream finally reached critical mass. What ever the reason, forty eight hours after his first dose, his fever and white count finally started to go down. Par for the course with Steve it wasn't smooth sailing by any means though. The drug was wickedly strong which meant it was hard as hell to tolerate. He needed fifty miligrams of Benadryl for itching and twenty of Phenergan for nausea each time he got a dose. He never complained though, no big surprise there. What he did do, a lot, was ask to go home. When he got denied on that one he asked to at least move out of the ICU. He was a lot better, he argued and the 24/7 noise and activity was driving him crazy. Finally on his fifth day at Landstuhl he got his wish. Before he was even settled in his new room, Danny found out why Joe had suddenly ducked out into the hallway. "Look you don't gotta talk to this guy, Steve. He shouldn’t even be here-you just got out of the ICU for God's sake."

"It's okay-I want to. I feel better."

"You feel better do you? Funny thing you still look like hell."

"Gentlemen." Joe interrupts. Behind him is the JSOC intelligence officer who has flown in from Bagram AFB to debrief Steve. He's a Navy man like Steve and Joe and is dressed in combat fatigues. As soon as Steve sees the silver eagles on his lapels he presses back against his pillows trying to sit up straighter.

"Relax please, Lt. Commander McGarrett," the man says as he extends his hand to Steve, "Paul Wheeler, JSOC-HDQ-Bagram. Let me just say how damn glad I am that you're safe."

"Thank you… sir," Steve answers looking all kinds of self-conscious.

 _Would you just relax?_ It killed Danny the way Steve got all formal around these muckety mucks.

"Your doctors tell me you're up for a debriefing. Is that true?"

"Yes sir. The sooner the better-before I forget any details."

"Good, okay let's get started. We've debriefed your team regarding the events prior to when you were taken captive so let's begin there. I'll just turn this on to record everything so I don't have to take notes." Wheeler hits a button on his phone and then lays it on the tray table that's across Steve's bed. "How about you go ahead and start whenever you're ready and I'll throw in any questions I have."

After Steve nods at the man it's almost like he slips into a trance. As he locks his eyes on the bedcovers and begins talking, his voice sounds detached, as if the story he's telling belongs to someone else. After a few minutes, Wheeler stops him to ask what kind of weapons the fighters who captured him had. Steve answers that for the most part they were outfitted with AK-47s but that he saw a number of RPK machine guns. He adds that he saw crates of grenades labeled in Russian. Wheeler nods and tells him to go on which he does, relating how he passed out after being taking captive and woke up in the house where he was held.

"Was it the same general area as where you picked up Luttrell?"

"I really couldn't say- I was out of it while they transported me."

"Well when you came to did you have a sense of being in a rural or in an urban setting?"

"I heard noise outside-kids playing, cars and scooters going by- no, it was definitely not rural."

"Okay. So once you came to, what happened?"

Next Steve recounted his visit from Kahdi.

The thrum in Danny's stomach eased up a little. This was slightly more bearable territory to traverse.

It turns out the thrum was charted for a quick return.

"What happened after the doctor left?"

"That's when they begin interrogating me."

_Just like that, babe?_

Danny can't believe Steve. He says it like he's saying, 'That's when they gave me some dinner'. He digs his fingernails into his palms to keep from blurting out something stupid. When he looks over at the heart monitor Steve's pulse is still a rock steady 60 beats per minute. His, he's pretty sure is pushing 100.

"I know this is difficult to hash over but it's critical for us to know if-"

"Let me stop you," Steve interrupts, looking straight at Wheeler, "I didn't give them anything."

"You're sure? You remained lucid throughout all of your interrogations-you know exactly what you did and didn't say?"

_Would you just take the man for his word, asshole?_

"I'm absolutely sure."

"You never woke up feeling like you'd been chemically interrogated- no cotton mouth, no headache?"

"No."

"Excellent. So what were some of the specifics your captors were interested in?"

 _You boys just can't get enough can you?_ Danny seriously wanted to hurt Wheeler right about then.

Steve answered in a tired but still willing voice, "Manpower-specifically numbers and types of special forces based at Bagram. Also what we had in the armory there and what we could fly in within 24 hrs."

"Anything else?"

"Our drone capabilities. They must have revisited that topic five or six times."

 _So that means they tortured you five or six time?_ Danny's starting to feel sick. "You need a break Steve?"

"No I'm good. I want to get it over with."

_And I want it to have never happened._

"I hate to have to ask you but as you know it needs to be in the report. What forms of interrogation did they use?"

After he took a deep breath Steve answered in a voice that was even more detached "Initially they worked me over mainly with their fists. Nothing above the neck. I guess so it wouldn't be evident when they videotaped me. "

"The bastards." Joe said.

"What else?"

"They used a wooden paddle on my feet. There were also…" he took an uneven breath, "surgical implements. They used f-forceps on my nails."

Danny jumped up, "Is this really necessary? I mean he already endured this once -why do you have to make him relive it?"

"It's okay Danny. I knew I had to do this-it's standard procedure," Steve says. "I'm just sorry you have to hear it."

"Well I'm a lot more sorry you had to go through it."

"I'm sorry too but I'm more proud than sorry," Joe says, standing up and going to Steve's bedside. He reaches over and gives Steve's shoulder a squeeze, "And you can be sure your father would be bursting with pride if he was around to hear how you held up over there."

Steve's eyes are moist when he looks at Joe. It's like he wants to say something but doesn't trust his voice. Joe preempts him, "You're looking a little spent, son. He turns to Wheeler, "I think we need to wrap this up Captain."

"You bet. Just one more thing and then I'll be leaving."

Wheeler pulls out a stack of photos and asks Steve if he recognizes any of the men. Steve carefully scans them and stops at one. "This man. He did most of the interrogating. He came in after I'd been in the house a few hours; it looked like they bought him especially for the job."

"That's Salim Hamdan. We thought he'd gone off the grid. This is extremely useful intel."

Joe clears his throat pointedly and Wheeler takes the hint. After thanking Steve again he gathers his things and leaves.

"You okay, babe?" Danny asks Steve. He feels sick and like he should say or do something but has no idea what.

Steve makes it easy for him, "I'm really beat. I think I just want to get some rest."

"Good idea Steve," Joe offers. "I'm going to do the same. I'll be over at our billet if you need me Danny."

"You mean the hovel of a hotel we're staying at?"

"You got it. Trust me, for a military hotel it's not bad."

Steve gives a tired little huff and closes his eyes.

Danny settles into the recliner next to his bed.

There's silence in the room for nearly five minutes. Steve's breathing is a little slower but Danny's not fooled. "I know you're not asleep. I can tell by the way your eyes are so jumpy."

"I'm resting."

"You're avoiding."

"Avoiding what?"

"Me. Me talking to you about what you just shared with Captain Underpants."

Steve opens his eyes to give Danny a scowl.

"Oh come on. I can't help it. This rank shit is bull shit. But to get back to what I was saying. You know I'm dying here after hearing what you went through and that I want to say something whatever the right thing to say is but I don't know what that is so I'm going to sit here and stammer like I'm doing."

"Danny, stop."

"Okay babe. I'm sorry. I just… Christ I hate so much that they did what they did to you. It tears me up inside."

"I want you to listen to me Danny. Really listen, okay?"

In a shaky voice Danny says okay.

"You're thinking about the things that happened to me in terms of what it would be like for you. For me, for any SEAL, it's different. I'm not saying what they did to me didn't hurt. What I am saying is that I knew how to handle it. The SEALs taught me that I could take a lot of pain for a long time. The whole time those fighters were doing what they did to me I was remembering Hell Week. I wasn't sure at the time I went through it that I would survive Hell Week but I knew with absolute certainty I could take what was being dished out this past week. I also knew that my guys were coming back for me. Not only coming back but coming back and doing serious damage to the men who were hurting me."

"That's honestly what was in your head?"

"It was."

"Jesus. You guysreally do think you're invincible don't you?"

Steve thinks about it and shrugs, "You know I guess we kind of do, but not because we're assholes. It's what we have to. It's the only way we can do what we do."

"I get that babe, I really do. What you just went through to rescue that Sergeant-what you did to be sure your team could get him out-I mean it's the stuff they make movies about."

Steve shakes his head looking all kinds of uncomfortable.

"Oh relax babe. So you're my hero. Nothing wrong with that."

"No. I guess not."

"Okay so now what's going through that scary mind of yours?"

"Just something else I thought about a lot whenever they left me alone."

"And what was that?"

Back to looking uncomfortable again, Steve answers, "Us."

"Us? As in… our relationship?"

"Yeah."

"Should I be getting nervous, because I am."

"No. What I thought about was what if you and I… what if we made this thing of ours official?"

"You mean like… a ceremony. Like get m-married?"

"That's exactly what I mean. I don't want to hide it anymore. What we have is fantastic. I'm not ashamed, I'm proud. What do you think Danny? Would you… marry me?"

Through sudden hot tears Danny chokes out, "You bet your beautiful ass I would!"

"You think my ass is beautiful?" Steve deadpanned through tears of his own.

"Shut-up you, com'ere, let me kiss that smart mouth of yours."

_Epilogue-_

The nurses at Landstuhl are pretty savvy.

It's not like they haven't walked in on couples in the throes of pretty emotional moments before. When Steve's nurse saw what was happening she smiled to herself and closed his door. Then, she slipped a sign on it that said, **Do Not Disturb-Procedure in Progress.**

She'd give them a half hour or so to be alone and then check on her patient. She knew he would be okay until then, after all, for her money, what he was getting right now was the best kind of medicine there was.

**Author's Note:**

> huge hugs and incredible thanks to lyndalanz for her encouragement and beta-ing and general cheer leading -  
> mwah!


End file.
